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Michael Phelps: Swimmer Superstar

Setting seven world records, eight American records, eight Olympic records, and winning eight gold medals in the Summer Olympics in Beijing in 2008 was an amazing accomplishment for 26-year-old swimmer, Michael Phelps.

The fact of the matter is that Phelps didn’t swim just the eight races while he was at the Olympics, pointed out Chris Rhodes, head swim coach at Edinboro University of Pennsylvania.

During the week or week and a half that he was there, Phelps did anywhere from 20 to 24 races.

“It’s not just a one and done type deal,” said Rhodes.

Phelps’ focus in the last Summer Olympics was to earn the eight gold medals and it was such a large feat, Rhodes isn’t sure that Phelps could duplicate it, especially since there are a lot of strong swimmers out there.

Without divulging any solid information to the media, Phelps implied that he already knows what races he will be competing in and has an idea of what he hopes to prove in the 2012 Olympic Games in London, which will take place on July 27-Aug. 12, 2012.

In an interview with Bloomsberg Magazine, Phelps said that he feels a lot more relaxed and calm than he has in past Olympics and thinks that he’ll be able to use that to his advantage in the up and coming Summer Olympics.

If anything, his goal this year would be to break the records he set in the last Summer Olympics, said Rhodes, and there is a possibility of Phelps breaking his own 50-second record in the 100-meter butterfly, but not by much.

One of the reasons is that as the body gets older, it starts to deteriorate, Rhodes said, especially for swimmers who constantly use their muscles and shoulders. With this in mind, Rhodes doesn’t believe that Phelps will be competing in as many events as we saw before.

Phelps told Bloomberg that he’s finding that as he gets older, he doesn’t recover like he used to. This time around, he said that as he focuses on perfecting the small details of his swimming, he’s found that he feels the same power, talent, and passion that he started out with at the beginning of his career.

“I think he’s really great for the sport of swimming,” Rhodes said of Phelps. “U.S. swimming is very strong in the world and we pretty much dominated for a long period of time. What [Phelps] has done is brought some significance to the sport.”

What it all really comes down to are those hundredths of seconds. According to the USA Swimming website, “It is a sport of finger-tip touches. It is a sport where thousands of meters can come down to thousandths of seconds.”

It can go the other way too. It’s not just about the seconds, the meters, or the strength of each individual swimmer.

“In the sport of swimming,” Rhodes said, “it’s not about every single meet. It’s about [working toward] the focus meet.”

In this instance, the Olympics would be that focus meet, said Rhodes. But first, athletes need to go through the Olympic Trials, taking place June 25-July 2, in order to make it onto the American team for the actual Olympics.

Once the top two are chosen for each event and the Olympic American team is formed, then the athletes will start training for their “focus meet.”

The swimmers will “bring up their yardage, do a lot of endurance training, and do a lot of long course training,” Rhodes explained. “Once you get closer to the meet, the yardage will be cut back and the intensity will be cut back as well, but they’ll still have a lot of technique to work on.”

The different races that Phelps has competed in that past are the 100 meter butterfly, which is just down and back the length of a 50 meter pool, the 200 meter butterfly, the 4×100 meter relay, and the 400 meter individual medley (IM), which consists of four different strokes – butterfly, backstroke, breaststroke, and freestyle, Rhodes explained.

But according to an interview with Reuters, Phelps has opted out of racing in the 400 IM and said the toughest race in the upcoming Summer Olympics could be the 4×100 meter freestyle relay. The toughest race, Phelps said in an interview with Reuters, is the 4×100 relay. All the team can do is put up their best swimmers and hope for the best, Phelps said.

With his six-foot frame and 80-inch wingspan, Phelps may appear to be superhuman. But in today’s day and age, said Rhodes, the fact that he was caught doing drugs in 2009 makes him seem more human to his fans.

“Not that I condone anything that he did,” Rhodes pointed out, “but it kind of puts his achievements into perspective. Obviously the guy is very talented and his genetic makeup allows him to do certain things than the average human, but it just shows that when you work hard, you can accomplish some great things.”

Phelps earned himself a spot in the history books for topping Mark Spitz’s 1972 record of seven gold medals.

“I don’t think there is anyone out there that can top Phelp’s record of most medals, to be honest,” Rhodes said. “There’s a lot of young talent that can challenge him in each one of his events, but to say that someone can do what he did again, I guess we’ll just have to wait and see when the next ‘Michael Phelps’ comes around.”

–Anna Tielmann

What Faith Can Do – Part 1

December 10, 2011 / Anna / 0 Comments

Night blanketed the little farm, a scattering of stars twinkling brightly around the moon, which was just a small sliver in the dark sky. The white, two-story farmhouse stood on a hill amidst a clump of oaks and maples, their leaves fluttering in the breeze. Owls hooted occasionally in the darkness, while ten horses stirred in their sleep. The house was dark except for a few lights that shone through the downstairs windows. Inside, there was a small woodstove, which stood in the corner of the living room, facing an old, brown couch and a cushiony leather chair. A desk sat in the corner next to the woodstove, with the family computer sitting in its own little nook. The kitchen and dining room share the entire back of the house. A long, Amish-made table took up most of the space in the dining room, while the kitchen had a marble island in the middle of the floor and long counters to match. Upstairs were three large bedrooms where everyone was sound asleep. Everyone, that is, except the parents, who were downstairs in the hallway. They were trying to keep their voices down so as not to wake their two daughters, but their loud whispers drifted up the stairs, breaking the silence.

Emma woke with a start. A large, stuffed, brown teddy bear fell from her bed as she glanced swiftly around the room. She squinted into the darkness and noticed that nothing seemed to have changed since she went to bed earlier that night. Her faded blue dollhouse stood quietly in the far corner, her basket full of old dolls she never played with sitting beside it on the floor. Pictures and paintings of horses covered her walls and several small trophies stood proudly on the shelf by her door, glinting in the moonlight. A scuffed riding helmet hung on the end of her bed where she had tossed it last night and her Bible lay open on her night table.

Being 13-years-old, she wasn’t afraid of the dark anymore, yet, she had a funny feeling that something wasn’t quite right. Her long, chestnut-colored hair hung down her back in a tangled mess as she strained to hear what had startled her from her sleep. Leaning farther and farther over the end of her bed, struggling to catch any unusual sounds in the quiet house, Emma’s grip suddenly slipped and she tumbled head over heels onto the carpeted floor. She winced as her small, golden cross necklace dug into her neck.

As she picked herself up and straightened her over-sized T-shirt that she wore, Emma crept to the door. Cracking it open and peering out, she noticed a light on downstairs. Just as she was about to step out of her room to investigate, the sound of her parents talking in hushed voices made her instinctively shrink back into her room. Slowly inching from behind her door, Emma tiptoed to the banister and crouched at the top of the stairs. She held her breath when she saw her parents in the entryway below, facing each other. Her dad was a tall, well-built man with a mop of curly brown hair that always looked wind-blown. Her mom, on the other hand, only came up to his shoulder and had long, curly blonde hair, which she tied back in a single braid. Emma had always known her parents had a strong relationship in the way that they openly showed their affection for each other in a simple kiss or a hug. Yet, just the week before, she had come in from feeding the horses and was picking at the knots in her work boots when she overheard her parents talking in the kitchen. She had peeked around the corner and only their silhouettes were visible in the darkened room. Words like “debt” “losing money” and “have to sell” made Emma realized that this was a conversation she should not be listening to and she quickly whirled around and ran upstairs.

Now, crouching at the top of the stairs, Emma’s mind wandered back to that conversation in the kitchen. She bit her lip as her dad shook his head in reply to something her mom said, took his denim jacket from the coat rack, and walked out the door, shutting it firmly behind him. Sighing, her mom turned and disappeared down the hallway to the kitchen.

“What’s going on?”

Emma turned and saw Sophia, her eight-year-old sister, standing in the hallway, wearing a similar oversized T-shirt and rubbing her bleary eyes. Her tangled blonde curls hung haphazardly down her back as she knelt beside Emma.

“It’s nothing,” Emma said, smiling unconvincingly. “Go back to bed, Sophia.”

Sophia shook her head. “You’re a horrible liar. I heard the door slam.”

Emma sighed, knowing her sister could read her face like a book, “I think Dad just went outside to check on the horses. If anything was wrong, they would tell us… right?” she said, as if she was trying to convince herself as well as her sister.

“Yeah, I guess,” Sophia yawned and arched her back like a cat. “Why did Dad make us stay out so long training this afternoon? There’s no way we’re gonna be ready for the rodeo this weekend. My legs hurt, my arms are killing me, and I’m tired.”

Emma smiled and tousled her sister’s hair, “Oh, quit your whining.” Sophia stuck out her tongue and ducked out from under her sister’s hand.

“Stop it…”

Just then their mom walked back into view. Emma raised her finger to her lips and both girls watched as she open the front door. Stepping out on the front porch, she stood there for a few minutes peering out into the night toward the barn.

Sophia’s cocked her head and looked at her sister with quizzical blue eyes, “So, where did you say Dad went again?”

“I really don’t know,” Emma said. She yawned really big. “I’m sure he’ll be back later tonight or in the morning.” She stood up, pulling her sister to her feet. “Come on, let’s go back to bed. You can sleep with me if you want to.” Sophia nodded, a yawn taking over her ability to speak. Both girls tiptoed back to Emma’s room and crawled under the covers. Sophia curled up on her side, as if she was trying to make herself as small as possible. Emma snuggled close to her sister and put her arm around her. It didn’t take long before both girls were fast asleep.

(To be continued…)

What Faith Can Do – Part 2

December 10, 2011 / Anna / 0 Comments

Early the next morning, Emma and Sophia blearily stumbled downstairs. Neither of the girls spent much time getting ready for the day. They normally grabbed new clothes from their drawers or closet, ran their hands through their hair instead of brushing it and pulled on their faded sneakers.

Slipping out the back door, the sisters slowly meandered across the yard toward the barn. Weatherworn fences surrounded five corrals where the horses grazed during the day. A long, wide, dirt path ran between the corrals, which led to a large, traditional red barn with white trim framing the doors and the windows. A rooster-shaped weathercock perched on the roof, swinging gently back and forth in the summer breeze.

Sophia walked ahead of her sister, kicking at the occasional weed that had managed to grow despite the constant trampling of feet and hooves. Emma squinted up at the clear blue sky, the sun just peeking over the horizon. She glanced back at their white, two-story farmhouse. A big front porch wrapped around the outside and a hanging wooden bench swung in one corner. Several cushioned wicker chairs were clustered on one side and a few potted plants framed the porch steps. Lost in thought, Emma followed her sister through the heavy sliding door at the front of the barn and nearly ran into her when Sophia suddenly stopped short.

While the girls couldn’t see anyone when they first walked in, they distinctly heard a voice coming from one of the end stalls, faint, distant, and hard to make out. Slowly, carefully, the two girls tiptoed down toward the section of the barn where the voice was coming from. Emma paused by the stall of a tall, dark chocolate mare and jumped slightly when the voice came from inside. The sisters peeked over the top of the stall door and both their eyes widened as they realized it was their dad who was sitting on a pile of fresh hay, with his hat lying at his feet. His curly hair had bits of straw sticking out at awkward angles.

“I feel like such a failure, Lord,” he choked out. “I thought this was what you wanted me to do with my life. I know that You have everything under control and that you have my life already planned out, but right now You feel so far away.”

Sophia glanced at her sister, a quizzical look in her eye. Emma gave her a warning look and the sisters pressed closer to the stall door to hear better.

Emma peeked over the door and saw a piece of paper lying next to his feet. She could just make out the words “to sell” and “prices” written at the top. Biting her lip and trying not to panic, she grabbed her sister’s arm and pulled her out of the barn.

“What?”

Emma shook her head warningly and didn’t stop walking until Sophia dug her heels into the dirt outside.

“Ouch! Let go! What’s up with you? I thought we were going to feed the horses.”

Glancing back at the barn, an uneasy feeling crept into Emma’s stomach. She motioned for Sophia to lean in closer, so they wouldn’t be overheard and said, “Dad’s in there.”

“So?” Sophia glared at her sister. Emma looked at her, uncertain how much she should tell her about what she had seen.

Just then the girls heard their mom calling from the back door, “Emma! Sophia! Come here when you get a minute!”

“Coming!” They called in unison. Emma breathed a sigh of relief and they headed toward the back door. Just before they got there, Sophia nudged her sister’s arm.

“Hey, did Mom’s voice sound funny to you?”

Emma looked down at her sister, “What do you mean?”

Sophia shrugged, “I dunno. She just didn’t sound like Mom, you know?”

“I guess…” Entering the kitchen and closing the door behind them, the girls scanned the room. “Mom?” Emma called out.

“In here,” came her voice from another part of the house.

They followed their mom’s voice into the living room. She was sitting at the computer with a bankbook open in her hand. She set it down on the desk and leaned back in the chair, gently massaging her forehead.

Emma’s stomach tightened a little when she saw her mom’s face. She was always smiling and didn’t seem to worry about anything, but today she looked worn out and stressed.

“Sit down, girls.”

Sophia glanced at her sister with an I-told-you-so look and plopped down in the big chair. Emma bit her lip again and sat down on the couch, curling her legs under her, folding and unfolding her hands in her lap.

Half an hour later, Sophia had stormed up to her room, ranting about how life wasn’t fair, while Emma still sat on the couch, where her mom had joined her. Leaning her head on her mom’s shoulder, Emma asked, “So, how many of the horses is Dad planning to sell?”

“We’re not sure yet. He was going to make a list of the horses that we have and figure out which ones will help us keep the farm without having to lose them all. But we’ll most likely have to try and sell over half of them.”

Emma’s mind drifted back to the sheet of paper she had seen lying at her dad’s feet in the barn that morning. “How long have dad and you known we were possibly gonna lose the farm?”

“Since last week.” Her mom sighed and looked down at Emma. “Now, I know how Sophia feels about all this, but you were awfully quiet while I was talking. Is there anything you want to talk about?”

Emma lifted her head and shrugged. “I guess not. I’d better get started on my chores.” She stood up and headed toward the kitchen. Running her hands through her hair, she shoved her baseball cap onto her head and headed out the door, shutting it behind her. She walked out to the first corral and leaned on the fence, staring up at the fluffy, cotton ball clouds that filled the sky. She weaved her cross necklace in and around her fingers.

“Father God, help me. Why is this happening to our family? Why us?! I know it’s not Mom or Dad’s fault that we can’t afford to keep all of our horses and I don’t want to lose hope, but…” She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath, trying to hold back tears. A gentle breeze blew through the field and lifted her hair gently off her shoulders, caressing her flushed cheeks. All of a sudden, she remembered a verse that she had memorized back in Sunday school when she was a little girl:

Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him and He will direct your paths – Proverbs 3:5-6.

She opened her watery eyes and smiled up at the sky, “I know. You’re in charge. Not me. Not Mom. Not Dad. I get it.” She sighed. “Help us to be strong. We can’t do this alone.”

(To be continued…)

What Faith Can Do – Part 3

December 10, 2011 / Anna / 0 Comments

The air was filled with the sounds of bulls snorting and cowboys hollering back and forth to each other. Dust and flies filled the air as Emma, Sophia, and their parents made their way through the huge barn where all the contestants’ horses were kept. Sophia kept pointing out different horses that caught her eye, talking on and on about what breed was her favorite, what she would name each of them if she owned them, and her dreams of managing a huge farm of her own when she got older. Their mom and dad chuckled and Emma smirked as they jostled their way through the crowd.

“There’s Tobi.” Emma smiled as a cream-colored palomino horse poked its head over the stall door. She rubbed his nose and kissed his cheek. “You ready to win?” Tobi shook his head, snorted, and nibbled at her sleeve. Emma turned to her parents. “You guys don’t have to wait around anymore. I can take it from here.”

Her mom smiled and gave her a hug. “Ok, sweetie. Good luck out there.” She squeezed Emma’s shoulder. She then followed Sophia to where Pixie, her paint horse, was kept. Their dad patted Tobi on the neck and grinned at Emma.

“Now, are you sure you can handle the pressure out there?”

She cocked an eyebrow at him, “Really, Dad? I think I’ve been doing this long enough that I can handle just about anything that happens out there.”

He batted her cowgirl hat down over her eyes playfully. “Sure you can. Just be careful out there and…”

“I know, I know. Don’t tighten up on the reigns too much, let Tobi do his thing, stick close to the barrels, and all that fun stuff.”

After finally sending her dad off to join the rest of her family, she turned and lifted Tobi’s saddle off the rack. Tightening up the straps and slipping the bit into the horse’s mouth, she shook the drool off her fingers and led Tobi out to join the rest of the riders in the arena for the warm-up. Concentrating on keeping an even pace around the loop, Emma passed by the judges’ table and almost did a double take. On the second time around the arena, she looked over at the sign that was hanging off the front of the table. It read: Barrel Racing Grand Prize – $25,000. A grin spread across her face. Here was an answer to all of their problems! All she had to do was win the prize money and then her parents wouldn’t have to give up any of their horses, much less lose the farm.

“What do you have that goofy grin on your face for?” Sophia came trotting up on her white horse that looked as if it had been splashed with large splotches of dark chocolate syrup. Pixie snorted and stretched her neck forward, trying to go faster than Sophia was letting her.

Emma slowed Tobi down to a walk and leaned close to her sister, “Did you catch that sign back there on the judge’s table? They don’t normally have big money prizes like that!”

“Yeah, just imagine all the cool things we can buy if we win it!” Sophia’s eyes sparkled like sapphires. “You know that black saddle I’ve had my eyes on? The one with the silver designs on it?” She squeaked with excitement.

Emma shook her head. “I think it would be a good idea to give it to Mom and Dad… No, hear me out,” she said when Sophia’s face darkened. “If we give them the prize money, then we won’t have to give up any of our horses or the farm. Mom only told us a small part about what’s really going on.”

“Yeah, and we know how that went.”

“You don’t understand. It’s more serious than just losing a few horses.” Emma let out her breath and the sisters made an entire loop around the arena while Emma told Sophia all that she had overheard that day she caught her parents talking in the kitchen. Sophia’s eyes widened and when Emma was done, she didn’t have a smart comment to make, which was unusual.

Emma sighed and straightened her shoulders as the sisters followed the rest of the riders into the waiting area. Sophia reached out her hand. Emma grabbed it and squeezed, trying to give her an encouraging smile. Sophia returned it with a smile of her own and turned Pixie to join her group.

(To be continued…)

What Faith Can Do – Part 4

December 10, 2011 / Anna / 0 Comments

After a couple races, Emma was placed in the final five contestants. She cheered as Sophia came racing back through the entrance, with Pixie panting like a steam engine. Jumping off her horse, Sophia led her over to where Emma stood on the side and fell dramatically into her arms. “I just want this to be over.”

Emma chuckled, stood her up and gave her a hug. “You’re doing great! Especially for this being your first rodeo and all.”

“Yeah, well I’m not as good as you are.” Sophia grinned. “You’re fast!” Tobi snorted behind Emma and Sophia rubbed his nose, laughing. “Well, ok, you’re the fast one. Emma’s just good at steering you.”

Emma glanced up at the announcement board and groaned. “Why do I have to go second to last? I hate being ahead of anyone ‘cause then I have to worry my time getting beat. Plus, Abby Detwieler races after I do.” Abby was one of the toughest girls in the entire competition. Her father owned a 50-acre farm just down the road from where Emma lived and Abby could always be found practicing in her corral with her mocha brown thoroughbred, Star. “Her fastest time in the barrel race last year was 14.2 seconds.”

“What was your fastest time?”

“14.6 seconds.”

Just then, Abby walked past the sisters, leading Star. When she spotted them, she called “I hope you’re more ready than you were last year. I’m tired of winning year after year.” She give them a nasty grin, “Although, that prize money will be nice when I win it.”

Emma ground her teeth as she watched Abby lead Star toward the end of the line. “There’s no way I’m gonna be able to set a time that Abby can’t beat. I’ve lost to her every single year!” She twisted her gold cross necklace in between her fingers nervously.

Sophia squeezed her hand “Good luck,” she whispered. “I’ll be praying for you.”

Emma smiled weakly, “And I’ll be praying for you too. See you after the race… if I live through it.”

The next 20 minutes were a blur for Emma. She faintly remembered watching Sophia compete in the finals for her age group and finish with the third best time of 15 seconds. The next thing she knew, it was her turn to get out on the arena. The minutes seemed to drag by as she waited for the starting gun. She could see the crowd sitting in the bleachers and every single eye seemed to be focused on her and Tobi. Taking a deep breath, she started to pray silently, but jumped and nearly lost her seat when the crack of the pistol went off nearby.

As they flew out of the entrance, Emma could feel the powerful muscles working in Tobi’s legs and sides as he surged toward the first barrel. Blocking everything else out of her mind, she focused all of her energy and attention on cutting as close as Tobi could to the barrels as they rounded the first corner. One down, four more turns to go.

At the second barrel, Tobi just barely bumped the rim with his rump. It wobbled back and forth and Emma had to resist the urge to look back. But, after they made the third turn and started on the home stretch, the barrel was still standing upright. Not having time to even breath a sigh of relief, she turned her focus onto the last two turns and then Tobi was galloping full speed back to the entrance to stop the clock. Slowing him down to a walk, Emma had him circle around near the opening to the arena to listen for her time: “14.3 seconds.”

Sophia waved from the side and Emma steered Tobi over to where she stood with Pixie, “Wow! That’s better than what you got last year!”

Emma smiled, “I know! That second barrel had me nervous there for a second, but stayed upright!” She slid off Tobi and patted his neck. “Now, lets just hope Star isn’t that fast.”

She felt as if her heart was lodged in her throat as Abby and Star shot out of the entrance into the arena. Her eyes were glued to the little screen that was available to the competitors in the waiting area. Star was in perfect form, cutting close around each barrel as Abby guided him with the expertise of a skilled rider. But then something happened that made Emma catch her breath in a short gasp. Star had bumped into a barrel as he passed and Abby’s hand had flashed out to steady it as they headed onto the next turn. At least that’s what Emma thought she had seen. Yet, the announcer didn’t seem to have seen it and the judges’ expressions hadn’t change. She turned to Sophia to get her opinion, but her sister was busy looking around at the other horses and stroking Pixie’s neck.

Just then, Abby came flying back in through the entrance. Star was breathing hard and his rider looked flushed, but happy. She flashed an unfriendly smile at Emma, who forced a smile in return. As her numbers were called out, Emma’s heart sunk: “14.1 seconds.” She started to walk away, but then was nearly jerked off her feet when Sophia grabbed her arm and dragged her back to where they had been standing.

“Look!”

There on the screen, the replay of Abby’s hand stretching out to steady the barrel as Star went past was playing over and over again as the announcer’s voice came over the loud speakers.

“It appears that while Abby Detwiler has entered a winning time for the barrel race, she has been disqualified for steadying the barrel with her hand as she rode by it.”

Sophia’s wide eyes looked up at Emma, who couldn’t seem to believe what she was hearing. “Does that mean…?”

Emma gulped. “I had the second fastest time…”

Then the announcer said: “So, since Ms. Detwiler was disqualified, that means that Emma and her horse Tobi are the winners of this years barrel race and the grand prize of $25,000!”

Sophia squealed and threw her arms around her sister. Suddenly her friends and the other contestants were surrounding Emma, patting her on the back and congratulating her on the win. Emma looked around and spotted Abby glaring at her from where she stood by the entrance. Shrugging and sending a smile her way, Emma swung back up on Tobi and fell in line with the winners of other events. Abby couldn’t seem to form words, and the last Emma saw of her that day was as she yanked on Star’s reins and made a beeline for the barn.

Emma rode Tobi around the arena, with a smile that just wouldn’t go away. She spotted her parents near the fence and waved at them excitedly. Her dad motioned that they would meet her back at the stall and she nodded. Arriving at the judges’ table, she shook the head judge’s hand and took the check that he handed her. She held it in her hands as if it made of glass and stared at it in unbelief. She had done it. Tobi had done it. They both had actually won!

The next few minutes were a blur of activity and people. As she made her way to the stall where Tobi’s things were, it seemed like everyone was reaching out to either shake her hand or give her a hug, congratulating her on doing such a good job in her race. She managed to get Tobi’s reins and saddle off before her parents and Sophia finally made their way through the sea of people in the barn. The next thing she knew, she was swept up in a big bear hug by her dad and he spun her around while she held onto his arms and laughed. When he set her down, her mom smiled at her and gave her a long hug, “You did a really good job, sweetie! I’m so proud of you.”

Emma grinned at her and then caught Sophia looking pointedly at her behind her mom’s back. Reaching into her pocket, Emma pulled out the check and held it out to her dad. “Here, Dad. I won this for you.”

He shook his head, “No, this is your money. You don’t have to give it to me. Keep it and save it for something for yourself. Or better yet, add it to your future college fund,” he added with a wink.

Emma kept holding it out to him. “No, take it. Sophia and I talked about it beforehand and decided that we would rather keep all of our horses and the farm more than we could want anything else right now. It’s yours.”

Her dad’s eyes misted over and he finally took the check from her hands. Their mom put her arm around Sophia and smiled at Emma. As he pocketed the check, Emma watched as her dad took out a familiar looking piece of paper. When he held it up, she could easily read the names of over half of their horses on the “to sell” list and she looked up at her dad, wondering why in the world would he bring it out now. She glanced over at Sophia and saw a confused expression on her face that mirrored her own. Then they heard the tearing sound and their eyes sparkled as they saw him tearing the list up. He smiled and held out his hands to them. Despite the dust clogging the air, riders of all ages getting their horses ready for the trip home, and the loud hum of hundreds of voices, Emma, Sophia and their parents joined hands and stood in a small circle just outside of Tobi’s stall. Bowing their heads, they listened as their dad prayed.

“Father, you know our thoughts and our dreams far better than any of us do. We acknowledge that You are the head of this world and You have a plan laid out for each and every one of us. I just want to thank You for showing us once again that we can completely trust in You for all things. Even when it seems like things aren’t going according to our plan, help us to remember that everything always goes according to Your plan. You alone are God and in You alone we put our trust.”

At that moment, a ray of sunlight shone through one of the upper windows in the barn and settled on the little family. Emma’s heart lifted when she heard her dad quote the final words from Psalm 139 at the end of his prayer:

“Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.”

–

Written by Anna Tielmann

Anna's Alcove

Let's do life together!

Tag: contest

Michael Phelps: Swimmer Superstar

What Faith Can Do – Part 1

What Faith Can Do – Part 2

What Faith Can Do – Part 3

What Faith Can Do – Part 4

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